Can Tom Riddle Change?
by ElectraJames
Summary: Hermione takes her seventh year at Hogwarts with Voldemort still at large. She has an accident with her time turner and finds herself 55 years in the past, where she meets Tom Riddle. She desides that she want to befriend him in the hope that he will change his ways and not becoming a coldhearted murderer. Can she succeed? Read to find out.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money from this, I only do it because it is fun to play with her characters, and when I am finished I will hand them all back to her. She deserves credit for creating this awesome world.**

**Hi everybody. This fanfic has been in my head for a very, very long time. I just haven't had the time to write it, plus I haven't had a laptop to write on before now.**

**Furthermore I would like to thank Marie E. Brooke for betaing my story. You did an awesome job.**

**Enjoy :D**

_HGTRHGTR_

The Accident

It was a sunny day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione Granger entered the Great Hall for breakfast, with a quick glance up at the enchanted ceiling.

"Happy Birthday Hermione!" was the first thing she heard when she arrived at the Gryffindor table. It came from one of her dearest and oldest friends, Ron Weasley. Harry followed quickly with another "Happy birthday!" for her.

She smiled at them both. Ever since they had saved her from that troll in first year, they had become the best of friends. It was hard to believe that this was to be her last year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had given her permission to have a Time-Turner for this year since she had decided that she wanted to participate in lots of classes again. He had of course given her the usual speech about how dangerous it was, how it should be used, etc. but Hermione already had experience from third year, so she wasn't too concerned.

"Thank you guys," she said, smiling at them once more and sitting down for her food. Then several owls swooped down, laden with brightly wrapped packages.

To her surprise, she received lots of gifts. There was one from Mrs. Weasley, the Weasley twins, Hagrid and Lupin. Mrs. Weasley gave her a box of cookies and a hand-knit scarf. The twins gave her a box with all the latest of their product, inclusive some fireworks and a box of Skiving Snackboxes. Not that she ever intended on using them, of course. Lupin gave her a book on Defense Against Dark Arts (she made a mental note to practice some of the spells) and Hagrid gave her some homemade rock cakes that would probably make her dentist parents cry if they could see it, due to its teeth-breaking abilities. Her parents were in hiding, so she didn't expect any presents from them. Harry gave her a new bookbag and Ron gave her a book spellbook on wards. She thanked them. She put all her books and the gifts in her new bag and opened The Daily Prophet.

"Anyone we know?" Ron asked nervously, peering worriedly at the paper.

"Thank Merlin, no," she answered. The times when the newspapers arrived were always the most nerve-wrecking. She dreaded the time when she would see that a friend of hers had been killed in the war.

They finished their breakfast and made their way to the first class of the day, which was Potions. Hermione had always loved the subject, but detested the man teaching it. She would never understand why he was being so mean to her and her friends. One hour and minus twenty points later, the three walked out of the dungeons in a considerably bad mood.

That night she sat in the common room with the boys. They had just spent the last two hours playing chess while she worked on her Potions essay.

"Eh… Hermione?" Ron said and sat down beside her.

"Yes Ron?" she replied without looking up from her work.

"Would you mind if I had a look on your charms essay?"

She glared at him in disgust. "As a matter of fact, Ron, I mind very much," she snapped at him.

"Oh come on, Hermione," he wheedled. "It's due tomorrow. Just a little peek?"

"I am well aware of that Ron," she said. "And what have you been doing since Professor Flitwick gave us that essay two weeks ago?"

"Well - I forgot to do it, OK?" said Ron exasperatedly. "There is no way I could make it till tomorrow."

Hermione bristled. How dare he act as if she was the stupid one? "Ron I would be happy to look over your essay once you have it written and correct any faults in it, but I am not letting you write off from my work. That will just get us both in trouble, and you wouldn't learn anything."

"You have to!" he tried. "I'm your friend."

Now, Hermione wouldn't have minded just this once that Ron copied her homework. After all, they were friends. But if the same thing happened every other day and Hermione was growing sick of it? Well, that was a totally different story. Plus, when Hermione made a small slip on one of her essays, Ron had gotten mad at her and started to rant about how dumb she was to make such a mistake.

"NO I DON'T!" Hermione rose to her feet angrily. "I am going for a walk," she announced, and spun on her heel, ignoring Ron's continued pleas.

She fumed as she raced down the halls, all the paintings mushed into one colorful blur. It was so typically Ron to try to worm himself out of a jam like that without even saying please or offering anything in return, as if it was her obligation to help him. On her birthday, too! Well, it wasn't. He should know that, at least.

With angry tears streaming her face, she fumbled with the Time-Turner, hoping to give herself a couple of hours in the library before curfew. Just as she was about to turn it, she tripped over the edge of a bookshelf in her angry haze, and the time turner spiraled out of control. She didn't get to see how many times it turned because the hallway around her started spinning too. Everything was spinning and blurry and - oh, too much color! She gave up and instead tried to force down the rising bile in her throat. The world slowly stopped spinning. Thank Merlin. The last thing she saw before darkness consumed her was the portrait of the fat lady staring at her in shock

_HGTRHGTR_

**Well I hope you enjoy my story so far.**

**Please leave a review. It would make my day.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Anything you recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling**_

_**I am very sorry for the wait in this chapter, but here it is.**_

_**I would like to thank my beta Marie E. Brooke. Thank you so much for the help.**_

The Headmaster

She awoke to darkness and a very bad headache.

The world tilted; she felt like there were thousands of bees buzzing in her brain. Her whole body was numb, and she didn't have the strength or will to move. She tried to remember what had happened, and succeeded only in conjuring up darkness. She gave up; she didn't have enough energy.

Blearily, she heard a voice. "Oh my. Here you go, dear." A vial was being pressed to her lips. She opened her mouth. She sighed in relief, relishing the feel of the cool liquid sliding down her throat.

A few minutes later, the headache seemed to lessen a bit. She opened her eyes to have a look around. She was in the hospital wing - that much she knew - but the redheaded woman standing over her was someone she had never seen before. Hermione thought that the woman looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.

"How are you feeling, dear?" the woman asked, sitting down at Hermione's bedside.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but a wave of nausea came over her and her cheeks bulged. The woman seemed to understand, and quickly conjured a small bucket for her. Hermione took it gratefully and dumped the contents of her lunch into the bucket.

The woman rubbed gently on her back, handing her a small vial. "Drink," she ordered. Hermione obeyed and was soon feeling quite normal and found that she could speak. "What happened?" she demanded. "Why can't I remember anything?" The memories were coming back, but only in bits and pieces of color. She knew her name - Hermione Granger - and other basic knowledge, but she was only just recovering her memory.

"I was hoping that you could tell me that," the woman answered with a sigh. "The Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher, brought you here late last night. Said they found you in a corridor."

"Oh. I am not sure exactly," admitted Hermione. "My brain is a little bit foggy."

"That is understandable. What is your name dear?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well then, Miss Granger. I am sure that It will all come back to you after you have had a little more rest." The woman handed her yet another bottle.

Hermione, who was now slightly sharper than she was before, frowned at the bottle. "What is this?" she demanded.

"Helps you sleep." At Hermione's skeptical look, she laughed. "It's OK," she assured her. "I'm certified for the job. Plus, I've already gave you two potions, and you aren't dead, are you?

Laughing, Hermione drank it, and settled back underneath her covers. Suddenly, she felt drowsy.

"You didn't give me your name?" she slurred, almost consumed by the darkness of her sleep.

"My name is Marian Weasley." was the far-away reply. "Now go to sleep."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew, that she should be concerned about her response, but the darkness around her felt so comforting that she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

[-]

"We have to figure out who she is, and how she ended up here."

"I know that, Headmaster. But the girl has a slight concussion. She couldn't seem to remember more than her name yesterday."

Hermione heard the voices that sounded like they were speaking through a long, metal pipe. She could almost not make sense of the words. She groaned from the pain in her head that had returned with full power since she was last awake.

Someone, probably the woman from earlier, seemed to sense that she was awake, and tilted up her chin, holding a vial to her lips. Grateful for a release from the pain, she opened her mouth. The effect was immediate. The pain immediately subsided.

She laid there for at bit until she remembered what the woman had said earlier about her name. Marian Weasley? There were not any Weasleys at Hogwarts except for Ron and Ginny. And she could not remember ever having heard of a Marian Weasley before.

She sat right up in the bed with wide open eyes and took in her surroundings. A couple of feet towards the door were two elderly wizards. It did not take Hermione long to recognise Professor Dumbledore, even though he looked much younger than the last time Hermione had seen him. His hair and beard were no longer that silvery grey she had gotten accustomed to, and was instead a rather pretty auburn. His eyes behind his oh-so-familiar half moon spectacles were the exactly same blue, and held a sparkle that Hermione was only too familiar with.

She had never seen the man he appeared to have been talking to, though, but now she had a clear view. His head was completely bald, save a few white hairs on his pale scalp.. When he looked at her she saw brown eyes.

She shook her head and tried to focus. She was Hermione Granger, muggleborn and top in her class. She knew that Marian Weasley was not the nurse - Madame Pomfrey was. And Dumbledore certainly did not have an auburn beard, and was not the professor for Transfiguration, contrary to what she had learned. This strange bald man seemed to be Headmaster instead.

She remembered what she had read about the Headmaster's office in Hogwarts: A History and started to look for the most recently dead Headmaster: Armando Dippet.

He wasn't there.

Hermione's brain started to whirl. Memories started to fly back; the Time Turner, Ron…

Time Turner.

It clicked.

"Ah, you are awake. Splendid." It was the unfamiliar man talking, but Hermione was barely listening. This couldn't be, this couldn't.."Then you can maybe answer a few questions for me."

Hermione looked at him, not knowing what to say. She wasn't sure what to do anymore. After all this wasn't her time.

Oh, I apologize for my rudeness. I am Headmaster Armando Dippet here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And this is one of the teachers Professor Dumbledore." He pointed at Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione's brain decided to start working. Armando Dippet got the post as Headmaster in 1905 and he died in 1956; that gave her at timespan of 51 years of which she could have ended up in any one of them. She had no idea that a Time-Turner could take her so far back.

She looked around the infirmary. A copy of the Daily Prophet were laying at a bedside table some beds away but she could not see the date. She remembered that Madam Weasley had mentioned a concussion, so she decided to play the card of memory loss for the time being.

Lucky for her, she had only told them her name, so everything else she could hide.

"I am sorry headmaster," she said, trying for an apologetic one, "but I don't really remember anything. My brain is all fuzzy. I - " She faked a loud yawn; that way she hoped that they would leave her alone for the time being.

"Headmaster, Professor." It was Madam Weasley. Thank Merlin. "The poor girl needs to rest. You have to come back later."

"Of course Marian. Please keep me updated."

And with those words, the two wizards left her to her rest.

"Here you go Miss Granger. Drink this."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the smell from the potion she recognized as a calming draught, but she drank it anyway in the hope that the kind lady would leave so she could get some time to figure out what her next move should be.

Madam Weasley went into her office, telling her that she was only a call away. As soon as the door closed, Hermione was out of the bed and over with the news paper. With trembling hands, she took it and looked up in the right corner.

Monday Sept. 4 - 1944


End file.
